If you read a poem and like it,
don’t worry. Read it again.
If you read it again and still like it,
give it a rest, then read it again.
If, on the third try, the word ‘like’
does not does not strike you
as poorly chosen and wrong,
throw the poem away.
Don’t read it again.
But if, you are persistent and lucky,
on the third try, you may recognize
your choice of the word ‘like’
to be a failure in judgment.
Now you hear the poem dare you
to remove one article of opinion
from your overly dressed mind,
and you accept the dare and do.
Finally, both you and the poem
have done your necessary work.
Now you stand less encumbered
by what you have mistaken to be
the manifesto of your active self.
Now you stand more nakedly
present to the being of the world.